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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24264376">make a home down there, cause mine sure won't be shared</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicocean/pseuds/cosmicocean'>cosmicocean</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>rolling in the deep [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, Gen, Padmé Amidala Lives, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, no fluff no humor gang it's pretty much just angst, referenced Han/Leia, referenced Padme/Obi-Wan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:08:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24264376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicocean/pseuds/cosmicocean</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Padmé’s seen the holo footage of Darth Vader, striding through battlefields, through meetings, and he always moves imposingly, ominously, like he has somewhere to be and someone to kill at the end of it.</p>
<p>He doesn’t look like that right now, though. Right now he appears almost to be hovering awkwardly, and she flashes back to all those moments in their apartment where her husband, young and kind and usually brash but occasionally unbelievably shy, wanted to talk to her about something and was plucking up the nerve.</p>
<p>Padmé wonders when the last time Vader felt uncertain was, or shy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A missing scene from "you're gonna wish you never had met me", where Padme and Vader talk to each other for the first time in decades.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>rolling in the deep [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/581392</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>395</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>make a home down there, cause mine sure won't be shared</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Padmé sits and waits in the immaculately white room. She folds her hands in her lap and stares straight ahead. There are four Stormtroopers present, two at either end of the walls, and she supposes that makes sense. They’ve been informed that she’s dangerous by the person who would know that the best.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The door slides open and she looks up. She doesn’t feel her face change, even though she feels something inside her churn. It doesn’t matter that she’s not showing it on her face, she supposes. He probably can feel it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Darth Vader makes a gesture from the doorway. The Stormtroopers file out of the room quickly and the door hisses shut behind them. She expects him to come and loom in front of the table, but instead he stays in the doorway. Padmé’s seen the holo footage of Darth Vader, striding through battlefields, through meetings, and he always moves imposingly, ominously, like he has somewhere to be and someone to kill at the end of it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He doesn’t look like that right now, though. Right now he appears almost to be hovering awkwardly, and she flashes back to all those moments in their apartment where her husband, young and kind and usually brash but occasionally unbelievably shy, wanted to talk to her about something and was plucking up the nerve.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Padmé wonders when the last time Vader felt uncertain was, or shy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He takes a step into the room and slowly circles around to face the table. She watches him just as slowly. Once more she expects him to loom, but instead he gradually pulls the chair opposite her at the table back and sits in it. She’s not sure she’s ever seen Vader sit before. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his arms at first. After a moment he crosses them across his chest.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They sit in silence, and she wonders what that silence looks like to him. She wonders if he’s cataloguing all the differences, her long gray hair that she wears so much more simply now,the wrinkles, the way she holds herself. She knows the way she holds herself is different. One time she and Obi-Wan saw a newsreel footage of herself, and-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Padmé restrains herself from an instinctive swallow. It still hurts to think about Ben sometimes. She doesn’t get to talk to him as much as she wants, and though it’s better than the alternative, it’s still not the same.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I was told you were dead,” Vader says stiffly, when it becomes evident she’s not going to say anything.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You were mistaken.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Are they mine or Kenobi’s?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The question unexpectedly twists a knife in Padmé’s gut. She feels her face twist into a bitter smile in return. “<em>Yes.</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> There’s another stony silence.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Twins.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Did you know?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Not until they were born.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Have they been… trained?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Yes.” The <em>regrettably</em>, she knows, is implied.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “By Kenobi?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “By their father.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> One of Vader’s hands curves into a fist.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “There wouldn’t have been anyone else you would have wanted, once. To raise your children.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The other hand curves. “Do you know what he did to me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Padmé lifts her chin and stares him down. She won’t play this game.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Why didn’t you tell me you were alive? Why didn’t you tell me about the children?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “How did I know you wouldn’t do what you did to the younglings?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I would <em>never</em>.” Vader stands abruptly and even if she doesn’t have any Force sensitivity to speak of, Padmé can feel the fury pouring off him. “Those are my <em>children.</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “<em>My</em> children.” She stands and she can feel what anger is doing to her face, contorting it into something that perhaps Vader won’t even recognize, the sort of howling rage that comes to her in bursts. “<em>My</em> children, you lost the right to call them <em>your</em> children, and you think that those younglings weren’t somebody’s children, Anakin, you-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Vader rears back and Padmé feels her words die in her throat. She’s never called Vader Anakin. Not once. Referred to him as Anakin when he was Anakin, yes. But not this. She wonders when the last time he was called Anakin was.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They stare at each other.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You’re angry,” Vader says quietly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She clenches her teeth. “I will <em>always</em> be angry,” she tells him, and it’s true. Even if she doesn’t die here, if she lives to be a hundred, she will always be at least a little bit angry, at the loss of her husbands, her way of life, of everything she holds dear except for her twins. She doesn’t remember what it’s like to live without it at this point. She doesn’t know how to.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Vader is still for another moment, and Padmé wants so badly to hit him. She wants to rush up to him and smash his helmet, break it wide open to see if his eyes look the way they used to, see if there’s anything like Anakin inside of him or if he’s just this, a twisted behemoth-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You can come with me,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Padmé blinks. “<em>What?</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You and Leia. You can come with me. And Luke.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Come with you <em>where?</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “The Emperor believes me to be loyal.” She can feel the intensity of his stare. She remembers what it looked like when they were so much younger. “He wouldn’t see it coming. He would never think of an alliance between the four of us. I did all of this for you three, Padmé.” The name of her mouth in his voice that is not at all like what she’s used to is almost enough to penetrate the vague haze of horror that this sentence causes. “All of this was for you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> That can’t be true. That can’t be. This can’t all be on her shoulders. “You’re lying. You’re wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I didn’t know they were twins. But I believed you and the child were going to die. Palpatine promised me the power to save you. That’s what I wanted. All of you by my side. We can <em>have</em> that.” He holds out his hand. “Padmé.” He sounds, for a moment, so frail, and so like the boy who sat with her in a field in Naboo, teasing her about the Senate. “Please. Come with me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Padmé stares at his hand, and she can feel herself drowning. She sees the smile on Anakin’s face when she told him she was pregnant. She sees Anakin with gray in his beard, laughing with his son, his daughter-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> and then she sees Ben teaching Luke how to drive a land speeder. She sees Leia hanging off his arm as a little girl, little feet dangling as Ben, amused, lifted his arm higher. Her family asleep on their couch, Leia slumped against her husband’s side, Luke’s head on his leg.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Padmé takes a deep breath.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You may have started this for us,” she says, steadier than she thought she would. “But you didn’t keep doing it for us.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Slowly, Vader withdraws his hand.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You don’t understand,” he answers, just as composed as she is. “What you’re refusing.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I understand.” Padmé lifts her chin. “Do you understand what you’ve lost?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Vader straightens.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He gestures towards the door and it opens. The Stormtroopers file in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “We’re taking the prisoner back to her cell,” he says, all hint of frailty gone. “Follow me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They escort her back to her cell and shove her back in. Padmé is so lost and disoriented within herself for a moment that she’s jerked out of realizing they’re taking Leia. She darts towards the door.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Wait-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The door slams shut. Padmé freezes, arm still outstretched towards the door.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What did he do to you?” Han sounds panicked. “What’s-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “He talked to me.” Padmé slowly lowers her hand. “Just talked.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What about Leia, what if-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “He won’t hurt her.” She wraps her arms around herself, feeling her body shrink in on itself. “I’m sure of it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She can see Han look at her out of the corner of her eye. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She nods. “Fine.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You’re, uh.” Han sounds tired but genuine. “Sorry, ma’am, but you’re not a very good liar.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She tries to smile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You have nothing to apologize for,” she manages, voice very close to cracking.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Han’s quiet. Then he shuffles a little closer and puts an arm around her shoulders. Padmé goes still, then quietly leans her head into his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Thank you,” she whispers. “You’re a good man.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I, uh. I try.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I know.” She tries not to sniff. “She knows, too.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Han doesn’t say anything to that, just squeezes her shoulders a little tighter, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Literally no one is more surprised than me to see this update.</p>
<p>I've been browsing my old stories recently and I'm actually working out a plan on how to finally finish this series. Tonight I knew I wanted to get some form of writing done, and the idea for this popped into my head.</p>
<p>I feel like saying "keep an eye on this space" is silly, because when it comes to WIPs and new story ideas I have a short attention span and I don't want to promise y'all anything that may not come for another four years (F O U R  Y E A R S since I published the last story, Jesus). But hopefully, there will be a conclusion this year.</p>
<p>Here's this for now, lacking my usually meticulous list of fashion references. Which is probably for the best, but I can make no promises about the next one.</p>
<p>
  <a href="https://cosmicoceanfic.tumblr.com/">Every once in a while one of my fics gets a bunch of comments in a cluster from different users, and I’m pretty sure at this point it’s because it’s been recced. Which is exciting! But I’d love to see it when it happens, so here’s a link to my tumblr! Feel free to tag me!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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